Endings and beginnings

So since I last posted on this blog, things have started to move. On the one hand I feel like I can't start treatment soon enough after more than a month of tests, appointments and uncertainty. On the other hand, as things gather pace and the days tick away, the reality of the situation is sinking in. If I'm going to wake up and find this is all a dream... well that's going to have to happen very soon. Please?

Last week they put a PICC line in my arm. PICC stands for 'peripherally-inserted central catheter' - in other words it's a tube that goes through a vein in the arm into the central vein just above the heart. They use it to administer the chemotherapy drugs. Provided it's looked after, it can stay in place for months or even years - in my case, it'll likely be there for at least six months. I guess I will get used to it, but at the moment all it does is make the skin under the bandage itch, and act as a constant reminder of why I need it. (And it's a faff in the shower.)

After the procedure to put in the PICC line, we went straight to a face-to-face appointment with the oncologist. Nothing new to say, except to confirm our decision to go ahead with the chemotherapy. We discussed side-effects - the main message is that there will be side-effects including sickness, diarrhea, tiredness and tingling of hands and feet - but that until I start, they can't predict how bad they will be for me. You can probably look forward to some more blogs on side-effects in the future. Maybe I can do a series on each one?!

So each step forward, each appointment, is taking me closer to the start of chemo, which should help shrink the cancer and buy me some more time. I'll be going in on Tuesday for six hours, then coming home with a pump (? no I don't know either) which continues to infuse more drugs for another 48 hours. On Christmas Eve they'll take the pump out, and that's it. Until we do it all again a fortnight later.

This sense of time running out is probably accentuated by the whole run-up-to-Christmas thing. To begin with, I thought we wouldn't do anything much for Christmas - but then I decided that I did want to get presents for our families as usual, and we'd ordered a Christmas tree and a turkey anyway. With COVID restrictions, Christmas isn't going to be the same this year anyway, so we're going to do what we can to enjoy it. We probably won't eat the turkey on Christmas Day, I don't think I'm likely to make it to church, but I have sung some carols and we will be together. If I feel crap and throw up, at least I'll be throwing up with the people I love.

Up until last week I was working full time, apart from time off for scans and appointments. I found it helpful to have something else to focus on - and after a couple of awkward moments my colleagues have helped me be myself.

But as the dates for the start of chemotherapy were firmed up, I realised that I would need to stop work and focus on treatment. Once that decision was made, I found it harder and harder to concentrate, and in the end it was a relief to set the 'Out of office' and log out on Wednesday afternoon.

I'm now on sick leave for the next six weeks at least. After that we'll see (reference above the impossibility of knowing what side effects will be). I'd like to try and work a few days per 14 day 'cycle' - but perhaps I'm being naive about what will be possible.

I am just very grateful to my colleagues who are taking on extra work to keep things on the road for the next six weeks and beyond.

So I'll dedicate this blog to all my colleagues and especially to the Superheroes of my team: Jon, Ed and Dom.

And if you would like to support the work we do, you can find out about Traidcraft Exchange's Christmas appeal and donate here: www.traidcraftexchange.org/not-this-christmas